


#SweaterBuddies

by sherbertfountain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Christmas, F/M, First Meetings, First Time, Reader-Insert, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:51:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherbertfountain/pseuds/sherbertfountain
Summary: You happen to own the world's most awesome Christmas Sweater. It gets a bit of attention online and somehow someone very special takes notice. Things escalate.





	1. Chapter 1

 

It was just a normal day, a bit of Christmas shopping in Oxford Street and a little treating yourself too. You head even forgotten you were wearing your favourite Christmas jumper until you sat down in your very special café and shrugged off your coat.

You popped up to the counter and ordered a pot of tea when a strange yet familiar deep American voice speaks just behind you.

“Hey, that’s a hell of a sweater!” You turn smiling and ready to accept the compliment when you get the shock of a lifetime, because the friendly older American gentleman smiling at your SUPER AWESOME Die Hard Christmas jumper is Bruce fucking Willis himself.

“Thank you so much” you stutter out “I mean the ultimate Christmas movie deserves the ultimate Christmas jumper” Bruce smiles at you and agrees. 

Some how he ends up asking you for a picture together and an assistant sidles over after he leaves and asks your permission to post it on Twitter. Of course you agree, gushing compliments and glowing with excitement. 

After that you float home on a cloud of air and childish joy. You don’t forget about the incident obviously, but it takes you a day or two to even think to look up the picture. And my god has it ever taken off.

All kinds of famous people are commenting and asking about the sweater so you do the considerate thing and post a link to the website you got it from.

<https://darkbunnytees.com/product/die-hard-knitted-jumper/>

You get more tweets replying to that comment than you’ve ever had before. There are quite a few from people that actually floor you. One in particular catches your attention.

 _That’s awesome. I’m totally buying one of those for Christmas._  
Chris Evans. Chris Motherfucking Evans replied to your tweet. You can’t breathe. It takes a few hours to stop the little gasps of joy that escape on occasion.

  
Again it takes you a couple of days to get over but eventually life gets in the way of the hardcore fangirling and you stop telling all your friends about it over and over again. Just when you feel the dust has finally settled the little twitter icon pops up on your phone and if you thought the last tweet from Chris Evans had you floored this one is something else.

  
_It finally came! Die Hard Sweater Buddies!_

  
There’s a picture that takes your breath away. Chris Evans sprawled on the sofa, with a lap full of pup, and a big goofy grin plastered on his face. It not a personal message or anything, but you are tagged and if the last few weeks hadn’t been so full of strange celebrity encounters you would never believed this could happen to you. 

You don’t respond. How could you? What do you even say to that? You just leave it, smiling to yourself each time you look at the picture. The picture last you two days of excited giggles to yourself.

  
And then you get home from work, grab a beer, flop on the sofa only to choke as you swipe into your Twitter account and a Direct message from Chris Evans

  
_Hey Sweater Buddy. I was hoping you would respond to me, I need you to share my excitement!_

  
The message is very recent, and once you get yourself together you type out your best estimate at a good response.

  
_Thanks tagging me in your tweet! I guess I just assumed the tweet was from Chris's PR. It was very nice of you to tag me though_.

  
It takes a few minutes for the response to pop through and by the time it does you’re really tense.

_Do you still think this is someone else?_

  
It takes you longer than before to compose the message.

  
_Doesn’t seem very likely that Chris Evans manages his own Twitter account. I’m guessing you’re PR or a personal assistant or something._

  
It takes half an hour before the response comes this time.

  
_I don’t know how to persuade you I’m me_. Another message pops through almost instantly.

  
_Or maybe I do! I can send you a picture like verifying on online interviews?_

  
You think for a second and start to smile.

 _Totally could be photoshopped. If you have access to the original picture from the tweet, it’d be easy to add a message_.

  
You stop and a grin spreads across your face.

  
_You could always copy me? Recreate this picture and I might believe you._

You just happen to be wearing the sweater right now with a pair of leggings, so you hop off the sofa, run to the hall and grab your elf hat. It has stripes and a bell and it’s totally adorable. You quickly snap a picture of you on your sofa and hit send.

  
It doesn’t take long for the response to flash back.

  
_You manage to make that awful hat look good._ Another picture follows a few moments later.

  
_Will this do? Not a lot of woollen hats in LA_. The picture makes you laugh out loud. It’s Chris wearing an elf hat designed for a dog. It’s perched on top of his head it looks beyond ridiculous, and he's pulling whats supposed to be a smouldering sexy face but is totally ruined by the tiny hat.

  
_Could totally still be photoshopped._

You send a picture of you in front of your tiny Christmas tree. He sends one back still wearing the dogs hat, this time posing with Dodger in front of a massive over the top tree.

  
The messaging is starting to feel familiar and friendly and maybe even a little flirty? You’re convinced it’s Evans you’re speaking to directly so you decide to take a risk. You have a pair of thigh high stripey socks in your washing across the room. You pull your leggings off and slide into the socks. They’re red and green toe socks that match your elf hat.

  
You walk to your bedroom and line up a selfie in the mirror. Your jumper is way oversized and finishes mid thigh, and your socks come just above your knees so there’s not too much skin showing. You snap a picture and send it before you can change your mind. It’s not really sexy, it’s just cute. All dressed up in Christmas gear is hardly a sexy picture, it’s just more of a challenge for him to match.

  
_I don’t think I can copy that one._

  
You’re not sure if you’re pleased to have won or a bit disappointed not to get more of a reaction, but you reply anyway.

  
_Well then how do I know you’re Chris Evans at all then?_

  
No messages for quite some time make you think you have totally overstepped the mark and stopped this forever.

  
_I hope you appreciate this._

  
And yes, yes you do appreciate that message. Because despite his jumper fitting him correctly Chris has removed his jeans and is just wearing his boxers and the jumper.

  
Despite practically drooling you can’t help but dig a little bit.

  
_No socks_

  
_I’m sorry that I don’t have schoolgirl socks lying around my house._

  
You type _I don’t imagine any would fit over those muscles anyway_ and delete it more than once before finally sending it.

 _Will these do?_ A picture comes back with him in what you assume are football or baseball socks maybe? Who knows with Americans sports gear.

You type it quickly without thinking. 

_Sexier without the socks_

_Duly Noted_

You notice it's really late and you have to go to bed. You sign off regretfully

_I think I'm finally convinced. Unfortunately I have to go to bed now. This has been fun._

_Well that sucks. If I message you again you going to reply this time?_

The stupid grin is back at the idea of continuing to get to message him.

_Of course! I'm just a DM away, dreaming of you and dark blue boxer briefs._

You send it before you can regret it and turn your phone off for fear of the response, jump into bed and try and remember you have to go back to your boring regular job tomorrow.

 You really hope he messages you again and you're true to your word, dreaming of those boxer briefs all night.

 

 

 TBC


	2. Hot Chocolate and Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Chris keep talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating. I work in retail so Christmas isn't an easy time for me to update.   
> I'm hoping everyone is still feeling Christmassy!

Waking up the next morning was beyond surreal. You spend the day in a cloud of confused bliss. Not only have you virtually befriended Chris Evans it seems like the two of you have chemistry, flirty fun chemistry!

  
You definitely don’t want to overstep, so you aren’t going to message him first. For all you know he was just spectacularly bored yesterday afternoon (evening? time differences are so confusing). He probably messaged loads of women, it hardly seemed likely that you were his only choice of flirty communication.

  
You manage to hold onto that idea for 2 whole hours before starting to negotiate with yourself about what that really means. You finally decide the best plan is to respond to his last tweet.

**#Sweaterbuddies** seems to have taken off and loads of other people have sent Chris messages with their own jumper pictures. You feel weirdly proud that he hasn’t responded to anyone else’s message, just yours.

_Time for a Die Hard marathon and some hot chocolate! I’m in if you are!_

  
You hit send and instantly cringe, so much for being casual. In fact you stay in pretty much a constant state of cringe for the next 4 or 5 hours. You try and channel yourself into your work but it only distracts you for a brief while before another notification remind you of your idiocy.

  
You check them all because apparently you have a serious masochistic streak you had never noticed before. The message you have been dreading all day finally pops up about an hour after you finish work.

_@ChrisEvans responded to your tweet..._

  
You open it feeling sick with nerves.

  
_Totally down! Gotta have mini marshmallows in the cocoa though._

  
The comments are already flooding in, **I Love you Chris, Count me in... Can I join...** a steady unending stream attached to your conversation. This is starting to get far too much attention for your liking. Social media being available to the general public is one thing but having so many people responding to your messages feels totally overwhelming.

  
They keep coming and coming and you are just about to turn off your phone when a new DM from Chris pops up.

  
_Sorry about all the messages. People mean well but they can get a bit intense sometimes_.

  
It’s followed quickly by another. _Totally would movie marathon with you today though - feeling like a lazy day. Not exactly the weather here for hot cocoa, but I’m headed to Boston next week and it’s all snowy and perfect back home for some cosy movie time. I’m all about blankets and movies and cocoa at this time of year._

  
You try and be brave again, _Sounds perfect, would love to cuddle up under a blanket and watch movies with you. Its freezing cold and rainy here. No snow, but that’s British winters for you._

  
_I can’t imagine a Christmas without snow._

  
You laugh to yourself,  _Well the weather here likes to mess with you. They promise a white Christmas and then it’s grey and rainy and then sometime in January it decides to finally commit to winter and the whole country stops for 2 days until it melts again._

  
_You Brits and your weather :-) It’s always sunny in LA. It doesn’t feel like Christmas at all here._

  
You can’t quite imagine it being warm and sunny at Christmas time. _Yeah, that just seems plain wrong._

  
All the talk of hot chocolate has you craving one now and you pour yourself a mug of milk and microwave it. You stir in your chocolate mix and but the time you have returned to your phone Chris has messaged again.

  
_The original tweets seem to be getting quite a lot of attention_.

  
_Yeah I guess they have. It’s weird to imagine that many people knowing what I look like._

  
_Does that make you really uncomfortable?_

  
You consider your response carefully. _It’s not something I would have sought out. But I’m glad I got to talk to you because of it._

  
There is a weirdly long pause and you start to wonder if something has called Chris away. When the next message pops up you’re not sure if you’re relieved he’s still there or worried about the contents.

  
_So this is a really weird question. Another pause has you definitely concerned. The tweet has been getting loads attention and my agent has been approached by a couple of chat shows about doing a fluff segment on it._

  
You’re really not sure where the question lies in this situation, but another message pops through.

  
_The Ellen Show wants me to go on an episode in the run up to Christmas. They’ve said I can talk about anything I want to, and it’s a great opportunity to try and boost my fundraising at a time of year when it could really do a lot of good._

  
That’s not what you were expecting, but it seems pretty reasonable. He can go on the show, use your pictures, show the public tweets and raise some money.

  
_What do they need from me? Permission to use my tweets or pictures or something_...

  
You quickly follow, _Don’t use the one with no leggings!_

  
When he replies you can feel the warmth, imagine him laughing.

  
G _od no! I mean then I’d have to show them mine_. It reminds you of that picture. The one you keep sneaking glances at all day.

  
_That’s been on my mind all day. I can’t get those blue boxers out of my mind._   
_You blush even though you’re home alone. The response is much quicker this time._

  
_Ah Christ. You’re killing me. That was a distraction I didn’t need right now._

  
_You flush even pinker, but you can’t help yourself. It’s true. I keep opening the image and imaging what it would be like to be there with you._

  
Another quick message flashes back.

  
_It’s not that I don’t appreciate the way this is moving but I really need to ask you this sooner rather than later._

  
_So the Show doesn’t just want me. They want both of us. I know you weren’t really comfortable being Twitter famous and this is a big ask but like I said before, it’s for a great cause and they’d pay for your flights, and I can pay for a hotel._

  
You’re still trying to process the insanity of the message when another one comes through.

  
_I know you don’t know me, and you don’t owe me anything. But this would mean the world to me. Can you at least think about it._

  
You’re not breathing. You might die here and now on your sofa with a mug of hot chocolate in your hand, but damn it you’d die happy. You can go meet Chris in person. The idea of being on TV is horrifying but how often do opportunities like this come along? Wasn’t your New Years resolution for next year going to be to take more chances?

  
_When?_

  
_18th of December. I swear you’ll get home way before Christmas._

  
You have to check the date on your phone to believe what he’s asking. Today is the 14th of December. You’d be there with him in just 4 days. What do you have to lose? And your Boss is always telling you you should take your holiday days.

  
_I’ll have to check with my work, but I do have holiday that needs using. I think I’ve got 5 days to use before Christmas._

  
_Oh my god really? That’d be amazing! Can you message me as soon as you know for sure._

  
You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. _Of course. Will call my boss now._

  
_If you can we’ll have to Die Hard movie marathon in our sweaters. I might even be able to find a blanket for us to snuggle under._

  
Fuuucking hell. What a message to close on.

  
Your heart is beating like crazy as you close your messages and pull up your bosses number. She’s a good friend and the office is winding down for Christmas anyway. She’ll have to let you go, although you’re pretty sure the cost will be getting her the footage of the awful awkwardness that will be your one and only TV appearance.

  
She answers in the second ring like always.

“Kathy, I’ve got a really big favour to ask you....”


	3. TV stardom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has been so long in the making. Life has been majorly getting in the way recently. I finally found some inspiration.

It was hard to believe this was happening. Here you were in Burbank at the studio. You had been picked up by a friendly driver, been greeted by an even more friendly assistant called Meghan and then been escorted through a series of rooms where you had been made up, had your hair styled.

At least you were allowed to keep your own clothes, it had been decided that you should be wearing exactly the same outfit as your selfie with Bruce.

You had been speaking regularly on the phone with Meghan, the staff member assigned to getting you on the show and planning things but you had barely spoken to Chris in the last 4 days. A message or two about the charities Chris was promoting and an excited back and forth but nothing like your previous flirty chat.

People are sweet and friendly but busy and run off their feet. You’re waiting in one final styling chair while another lightly stressed makeup lady is teasing your haha and applying more product and makeup until you’re not quite sure if you’ll ever be finally finished.

Your phone buzzes and you glance down expecting another good luck message from friends and family but instead you see a message from Chris.

_I’m here. Can’t wait to see you._

All of a sudden you can hardly breathe. Despite the flights and being at the studio it only feels real now Chris is here too. You’ve been primped and prettied, but you still feel like yourself which is good because you have no idea how you’d even speak to him otherwise.

You’re finally heading down the corridor with Meghan towards the green room.

Meghan smiles at you “Nervous about being on camera?”

You smile and nod but it’s really about 50/50 nervous about being on camera, and nervous about meeting Chris.

The door to the green room is open and through it you can see a broad back, rapidly moving hands, and the distinctive red and white jumper. You almost want to run but Meghan has a reassuring hand on your arm and so you just keep walking.

Meghan addresses the room. “So guys you’ve got 15 minutes before you go through and see Ellen. I’ll leave you all together to prepare.” She winks at you and smiles, Chris turns and Meghan reaches out.

“Great to see you again Mr Evans. I think you two know each other already?”

You stand there with a stupid smile on your face "A little. So pleased to meet you Mr Evans.”

You extend a polite hand. Chris’s smile is wide and genuine, “Oh hell no, we’re not going to pretend that’s where we are. Give me a hug!”

All of a sudden you’re swept into the oversized hug. Chris smells and feels amazing, even through the sweater you can feel muscles and you force yourself not to nuzzle into his shoulder, feel him up and smell him as deeply as you want to.

You pull back finally and smile up at his big overexcited face. “I can’t believe you’re wearing the same outfit as me!”

Chris steps back and looks you up and down. You’re wearing the jumper, skinny blue jeans and brown combat boots. His outfit is remarkable similar, obviously the same jumper, dark blue jeans and brown boots.

“Huh. I guess we must have similar tastes. I think you're wearing it better.” He steps closer and his voice seems slightly deeper as he leans in. “Although I’d prefer your elf outfit. You better have brought those socks with you.”

Your breath hitches, and you need a moment before you can respond.

“I’m not sure that’s what the show is after.” You pause for a second before following up “But yeah, I thought they’d be perfect for our movie marathon, snuggled all up under the blankets.”

Chris groans “I know you came all this way to do the show but can we just go to my place and do that instead?”

“Don’t tempt me. I still don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”

“I’m very persuasive.”

You and Chris just smile at each other for a moment. It’s so familiar that you can hardly believe this is the first time you’re meeting.

The quiet moment is broken by Chris. “Oh shit I forgot, I couldn’t get the hotel we planned on getting you. We can find something else, or you can stay at my place?” The offer is uncertain and almost thrown away.

“I mean you’re going to be coming over for a Die Hard marathon anyway right?”

You're smiling hard enough to split your cheeks, “Of course we’ll be watching all the movies. But I wouldn’t want to impose on you.”

“Don’t be stupid, I got like 3 bedrooms and there’s only one of me. And I mean there’s Dodger too.” He pauses “ You like dogs right? Because Dodger is pretty damn friendly.”

“Of course I do!”

The two of you are chatting like old friends when Meghan returns to collect you.

“Its time.”

***********

The show passes in a blur of adrenaline and you hardly remember any of it. Ellen is fun but intense, and Chris does and amazing job deflecting as much of the attention as possible, keeping things light and on topic.

You remember to mention the charity as much as possible, talk excitedly about meeting Bruce and then chat a little about your tweets to Chris. The only thing that you remember clearly from the whole if filming is the feeling of Chris being pressed up against your side the whole time.

When you finally get off the set you’re pretty hyper. It’s been an experience you thought you would never have and you can’t believe you got the opportunity, or honestly were brave enough to take it when it came!

Chris has been saying thanks and goodbyes to people and when he finally joins you the emotion and the excitement overwhelm you and you launch yourself at him.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

He smiles and hugs you back. “Sweetheart I should be thanking you. You kept us on topic and I got to talk about things I care about with no movie questions! I should take you everywhere.”

You finally disentangle yourself from Chris and try and think logical thoughts. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Well we can take your things back to my place and go let Dodger out?”

Every time you think you’ve managed to get a handle on this situation there’s another layer of crazy added. It’s one thing to make flirty comments about cuddling on the sofa but staying at his place is a whole other thing.

Chris guides you to the car with a hand on your back. You know from seeing him online he’s a tactile guy but the two of you have been touching almost constantly since you met.

He points out houses of friends on the way and you hardly notice you’ve crossed town until you pull up outside a modest but impressive looking house. You jump out the car and grab your duffle bag.

Chris unlocks the door and is assaulted with an armful of dog as soon as the door opens. “This is Dodger.” Dodger walks over to you and you hold out a hand for him to sniff.

“Hi Dodger. Nice to meet you.”

He nuzzles your palm and you stroke him for a few moments before he gets distracted by how much he obviously loves Chris.

While petting Dodger with one hand Chris strips off the jumper, it hooks his t-shirt and reveals a band of stomach that has you entirely broken. It’s perfectly pale with a little trail of hair heading into his jeans. Your mouth is suddenly dry and you can’t stop staring. Your eyes are drawn to the boxers and your mind is suddenly back at the amazing picture. You try your best to behave normally when his face reappears, hair lightly ruffled and totally perfect.

“So make yourself at home. My bedroom is this way” he points down the hall through a kitchen but takes you in the other direction. “Guest suite is in here.”

“Suite?” the door swings open and you marvel at the size of the room in front of you. Its simple but luxurious, all grey and blue and muted tones with a view over a beautiful pool.

“Holy shit, that’s a fancy fucking bedroom.”

Chris laughs “Jesus, the foul mouth didn’t come across on twitter.”

“We’re a very swear-y nation. But I can try and be proper and be polite if you want.”

“Fuck no, it’s just unexpected is all. l’ll let you settle in. Dodger needs some serious love so I’ll be outside playing. Come join us when you’ve unpacked.”

You explore the room and attached bathroom. You throw yourself down on the bed and lie still. You’re lying on Chris Evans bed! Not his actual bed but his bed, but a bed that belongs to him. Which is insane. And you seem to have some actual chemistry in person too.

  
You decide the best next step is to shower, get all the studio crap off your face and hair. You walk into the bathroom and take a long shower under the biggest showerhead you’ve ever seen. If this is the guest bathroom Chris’s bedroom must be amazing, and you’re hoping to get invited across the hall at some point in your stay and see it for yourself.

  
You can’t figure out how to work the blinds so you decide to change in the bathroom. Dressed just in a towel you walk across to your suitcase. You can see Dodger running across the garden, followed closely by Chris. They fall to the floor and your heart skips a beat. There’s something so perfect in their shared excitement at being back together.

  
You grab a simple skater dress and pull it on in the bathroom. You aren’t sure if you should try and apply makeup. Impressing Chris is important to you but you’re going to be staying in his house for a few days so it seems stupid to try and pretend you’re not a real person.

  
You step out through the door into the sunlight and smile at the bundle of man and dog rolling on this grass. You smile as Chris disentangles himself from his pup and comes over to you.

  
“You look amazing. So much better without all the sticky stuff they put on you.”   
He reaches out and touches your hair which is drying and expanding, “I love this all natural. You look pretty great in general. This is the first time I’ve seen you not in the sweater.” The other hand settles on your hip naturally.

  
You can’t help but blush under the extra attention. “Thanks, I feel much better. And you look amazing too, all grassy and mussed”

You reach out and pull a piece of grass off his chest and brush your fingers over his pecs. You both catch your breath and lean into one another slightly.

Dodger takes this moment to wander in between you looking for more love and attention.

  
Chris looks down as Dodger weaves between your legs “Dodger buddy I love you but, way to break the moment.”

  
Dodger looks hurt for a moment and then slinks off in the direction of a dog bed on the deck.

You smile “I think you hurt his feelings.”

  
“He’ll get over it. Can I get you a drink?”

  
You smile “I don’t know, what do you have?”

  
You follow Chris to the kitchen and he opens the fridge, leaning over and listing the contents. You’re half listening and half looking at how amazing his arse looks in the tight jeans. “Juice, water, coffee, tea, beer?

  
“Beer? What beer? Good beer?”

  
“American beer.”

  
You can’t help but smile, and the reply comes far too quickly “Ah, so shite beer then!”

  
His face reappears over the fridge door, looking shocked and offended. “Excellent fucking beer!”

  
You squeeze in next to him and peer inside the fridge. The beer is Brooklyn Larger which is acceptable. You reach in and grab one and now the two of you are all pressed up against each other. “You want one?”

  
“Are you offering me my own beer?”

  
“No?” Chris grabs your side, you squirm and suddenly he’s behind you all pressed up against your back. For a moment you’re all caught up in the tension of him being behind you until he reaches past you, grabs a can and pushes it against your thigh. You squeal and push up further against him but you can’t escape trapped between his arms. He pushes your shirt up and this time gets your side. You keep wriggling and he curls his arm and holds you in place against him so he can keep getting you with the can.

  
You spin and wriggle and his arm holding you slides across your breasts. Your bra is the thin and lacy kind and the sensation of his hand and the cold can across has your nipples instantly hard. You still, because you aren’t playing anymore you’re full on turned on.

  
Chris still hasn’t quite caught on and he’s still playing but his hand is on your stomach and all tickle is gone, now everything is making you really turned on. You make a soft gasping noise and Chris catches on. He pulls back slightly, and you whine and try and follow his body.

  
“Right up against my fridge? Can we move to the couch?”

  
“Couch where you took the picture in your boxers?”

  
“I’ve only got one couch.”

  
“I might have been having very explicit dreams featuring that couch.”

  
Chris makes a low sound in his chest and manhandles you across the room. Dodger stands up outside and Chris quickly crosses to the patio door and swings in closed. “Love ya bud, but not now alright? You can come back in later.”

  
You throw yourself down on the couch, sprawled over half of it and your dress by rides up. You leave it as Chris isn’t far behind. He pushes himself between your legs and leans down to kiss you.

  
“Is this too much?”

  
Even as he’s speaking you’re shaking your head and you pull him in for a kiss that full of all the desperation and pent up need you’ve been feeling since you first traded pictures.

  
You moan and shift your hips so his core lines up with yours. You’re grateful for the wardrobe choice because it allows you to wrap your legs over him unrestricted.

  
He pulls back slightly and you smile mischievously at him “Is this too much?”

  
“Fack no.” His accent is coming through strongly now, which is turning you on even more.

  
This is going places really quickly and you couldn’t be more thrilled. Chris is palming your breast, gently flicking your nipple with his thumb. He pulls back and kisses your neck. “Are you sure this is okay?”

  
You look him dead in the eye. “If you stop doing what you’re doing, I will kill you.”

  
He smiles the filthiest smile you’ve ever seen. “This works for you?”

  
“I could come from just this.”

  
He groans again and ruts against you. The pressure in your core increases and you frantically kiss him again.

  
You reach down and start unbuttoning his jeans. He pulls his head back. “I have beds.”

  
“Later.”

  
You free him from his jeans and boxers and wrap your hand around him. He moans and drops his head forward to your shoulder. You pull him closer and shift so you can pull your underwear to one side. You guide him towards you and he rubs across your entrance. It’s amazing, but he’s still holding back reluctant to take that final step without permission. You push him off you and he looks concerned until you straddle him. You make eye contact and when he nods you slide down onto him.

  
Having him inside of you feels amazing and you’re torn between wanting to enjoy the sensation and wanting to ride him as hard as you can. He settles it for you when she grabs your hips and begins to lift you.

  
Not that it isn’t amazing that he can lift you from this position but when you top you like to be in charge so you grab his wrists and pin them to the sofa either side of his head. Chris apparently really enjoys you taking charge because the string of noises this act elicits is something else. You speed up, chasing your own pleasure and trying to force as many whimpers, whispered swear words and deep moans from Chris as possible.

  
He frees your breasts and sucks your left nipple into his mouth, gently pinching your right at the same time. If this action had you close through your dress it’s driving you to the edge now. You can feel your orgasm building and you start to slam down on Chris harder and harder. His hands have found their way back to your hips but he’s not controlling your movements, just holding on.

  
“Chris I'm so close” You can feel yourself on the edge, it won’t take much to tip you over.

  
“Fack, fack. Oh Jesus.” He grabs you and holds you down, grinding into you and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. You’re sensitive as you come but you do everything you can to pull him over the edge with you, and when he does come his face is a thing of beauty.

You fall forward, head resting on his shoulder. You both just sit for a second, collecting yourselves. Chris is smiling.

  
“That was unexpected.”

  
“Really? I’ve been dying to do that for weeks.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a story that occurred to me using one of my favourite and chronically under reader paired actors.  
> Be the change you want to see in fanficton, right?  
> Comments and criticism welcome, steaminess to come.


End file.
